Sneaker culture maintains foothold in battle for acceptance

1of4Jetia Deity (left) helps Steven Andrew Garcia, who came from Los Angeles to buy shoes from SoleSpace.Photo: Santiago Mejia, Special to The Chronicle

2of4Jetia Deity organizes the display window at SoleSpace.Photo: Santiago Mejia, Special to The Chronicle

3of4The apparel and shoes at SoleSpace.Photo: Santiago Mejia, Special to The Chronicle

4of4Jetia Deity organizes clothes at at SoleSpace, a popular boutique on Telegraph Avenue in Oakland that serves as more of an arts space than a retail outlet.Photo: Santiago Mejia, Special to The Chronicle

We’ve all coveted an item to project our self-worth. It could be a degree, a car, a watch or a handbag.

The hardest and the softest among us — and the richest and poorest — want the same thing: to look like they’re somebody.

“Kicks,” the debut film by Richmond native Justin Tipping, examines the financial, physical and mental pressures that are unpacked by a young man’s determination to retrieve his stolen sneakers — coveted Air Jordan 1 black-and-red retro high-tops. The film’s a coming-of-age tale that explores how self-esteem and self-worth are tied to the sneaker culture.

Sneakers are a source of self-expression. They’re no different than nappy hair, hairstyles with streaks of purple, or other fashionable Bay Area sartorial favorites such as ripped jeans, leather motorcycle jackets and beautifully busted Chuck Taylor All-Stars.

The people standing in line for a late showing of “Kicks” at Oakland’s Grand Lake Theatre last week wore Timberland boots, Vans skate shoes, Adidas Samba Classics and, of course, there were Air Jordans in fresh-out-the-box condition. You won’t find these kicks hanging from telephone wires and power lines.

Sneakers are high fashion and high art, as seen in “Out of the Box: The Rise of Sneaker Culture,” a traveling exhibition that will come to the Oakland Museum of California in December. Sneaker boutiques have become destinations for those who treat their sneakers as art collections to congregate.

SoleSpace sells custom sneakers available in a wide variety of colorful designs and styles.

Photo: Santiago Mejia, Special to The Chronicle

SoleSpace’s flagship store on Telegraph Avenue, for example, is more of an arts space than a store. Earlier Devlin Braswell, a sneaker customizer, was filmed for a reality TV series this week.

On one wall, Braswell’s work, including a pair of Jordan’s reconstructed with Golden State Warriors colors and Stephen Curry’s No. 30, were expertly arranged. “Do not touch” was written on Post-it notes stuck to the wall.

“It’s like when you go to a museum, you can’t touch the art,” SoleSpace worker Jetia Deity, who is also a DJ and performance artist, told me after ringing up a customer.

Shoes have a necessary function. Your feet are essential to a healthy life, especially if you’re on them all day. Foot discomfort is hard to tiptoe around. And, as depicted in “Kicks,” cool sneakers can jump-start a love life.

My first car, a 1985 Buick Century with whitewall tires, didn’t turn heads like the week I wore three new pairs of sneakers in three consecutive days. I was driving on fumes for weeks, but I was immediately more popular — and confident.

Along with status comes pressure.

A boyfriend of a girl I had flirted with put the word out he was going to beat me up and take my shoes, the off-white with teal accents Air Trainer Huaraches. I didn’t take the threat lightly, because I’d heard stories of beat-downs and stolen sneakers, some similar to what I saw in “Kicks.”

I rode with friends to the guy’s apartment complex for the confrontation. If my shoes were going to be taken from me, it was going to be on my own terms. And they were going to get scuffed, made unwearable.

We didn’t fight, and I didn’t get the girl. But I earned respect. I’m fortunate I wasn’t tripped up by circumstance.

Almost three decades after killings over sneakers made national headlines, lives are still being lost over sneakers. “Kicks,” which remains in local theaters, gives us a backyard view of how the love for sneakers can lead to the loss of loved ones.

I talk to my friends of all ages about shoes frequently, and they mock my fear of aging into New Balance sneakers worn by dads, cargo shorts owners and people who tuck in T-shirts.

I’m still young enough to value style over comfort, but old enough not to spend frivolously on sneakers. I wore Vans to see “Kicks,” and it wasn’t just sneaker-heads in attendance.

“Kicks” transcends race and class, because you don’t need to have a closet full of shiny shoes to understand a movie about fighting for acceptance, fighting to belong.

Otis R. Taylor Jr. is the East Bay columnist for the San Francisco Chronicle, focusing on the people who make the region a fascinating place to live and work. A South Carolina transplant, Otis spent more than a decade at The (Columbia, S.C.) State newspaper, writing about arts, culture and entertainment. Previously, Otis was the managing editor of a tech startup. Otis is interested in reporting on issues relating to diversity and equality in the East Bay, as well as the region’s history, culture and politics. He studied English at Clemson University.